


Josh Lyman's Fifth Father's Day

by apocryphile



Series: Unframed Candids [7]
Category: West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 20:22:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apocryphile/pseuds/apocryphile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pretty much what it says on the tin... 2012.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Josh Lyman's Fifth Father's Day

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this on Tumblr on Father's Day this year, but I decided it needed to come live on here with the rest of the series.

Sometime shortly after dawn on the twins’ first Father’s Day, the two older Lyman children brought their Dad breakfast in bed, blissfully unaware that he’d been awake until barely an hour before, pacing figures of eight with one of their fretful little sisters tucked into each arm. Josh manfully forced down the soggy, oversweetened cereal Noah had proudly presented him with, carefully explaining that he’d made it like Daddy’s coffee “with lots of milk and lots of sugar” while Donna tried to keep a straight face. Evie refused to relinquish the orange juice she’d brought for him until he was done, protesting that it wasn’t her turn yet. Now that she was old enough to play with more of the same toys as her big brother, they’d been talking a lot about taking turns. Josh, who could practically feel his teeth disintegrating, wished she hadn’t chosen this particular occasion to start taking their gentle admonishments on board, but he didn’t have the heart to overrule his self-possessed little princess. Once he’d gulped down the last sickly spoonful and handed back his son’s prized Spiderman bowl, she solemnly held out the mercifully large plastic cup, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried not to spill. He drank gratefully, finishing it in just a few swallows, and then reached down and pulled both his slightly sticky offspring onto the bed with him. With a guilty look at his wife, he grabbed the remote off the nightstand and fired up the Charlie and Lola DVD that had lived in the player for over a year now. Figuring he’d bought himself at least half an hour of peace, he promptly went back to sleep.

Donna – who after four kids had perfected the art of dozing while nursing and had gone straight back to bed after each feed even though Josh and the twins hadn’t – extracted Noah and Evie after two episodes and shamelessly bribed them into taking a bath. Just as the amount of water on the bathroom floor exceeded what was left in the tub, a familiar squeak emanated from the baby monitor.

“What do you think guys, is that Gracie or Katie?”

A tired, gravelly voice answered from the doorway.

“That, I’ll wager you any money, is number one troublemaker and all-round rabble rouser Miss Katie Jean Lyman.”

“What’s a rubble racer, Daddy?”

Josh grabbed a towel and plucked Evie out of the bath.

“Let’s go find out before she wakes Grace up, okay?”

Donna got Noah dried off, lost an argument about whether Father’s Day was an occasion worthy of letting her pick out his clothes for him, sent him off to get himself dressed and tiptoed into the nursery, where she found Josh asleep again with Katie, awake but mercifully quiet, blinking curiously in his arms. Evie, meanwhile, her towel now draped artistically over her head, was sitting on the floor next to the cot, whispering to Grace through the bars, evidently unconcerned that her little sister was fast asleep. Donna held her breath, listening.

“Today’s a special birthday for all the daddies, so we got our Daddy breakfast and we’re going to go visit with Huck and Molly’s Daddy and then we’re going to the sem-try to talk to Auntie Mal’s Daddy because he lives there and then tonight we’re going to see Peter and Miranda because President Matt’s their Daddy. And Mama’s going to call Grandpa Moss on the computer so we can see him. It’s really cool. You can wave at him!”

The little girl’s voice rose excitedly and Donna scooped her up before she could wake the one remaining sleeping child in the house. With a quick glance to make sure Katie wasn’t showing any sign of approaching one of her trademark meltdowns, she toted her daughter off to have a hopefully more successful discussion about suitable outfits for a visit to the White House. She didn’t think anyone would actually object if both her kids showed up in superhero pyjamas – the current ensemble of choice – and she knew Leo would have got a real kick out of them wearing that to visit his grave, but she was really hoping for some decent pictures of them all for the babies’ first official outing.

Josh blinked and shook himself gently, surprised to find that his smallest daughter had actually had the courtesy to go back to sleep without him having to do anything. Katie and Gracie were identical twins, but because of something incomprehensible to do with the placenta that Josh had given up trying to understand once he’d been assured it wasn’t dangerous, they had been born markedly different in size. Tiny Katherine seemed determined to catch up to her sister as soon as humanely possible, and while Josh had never been so sleep deprived in his life (which was saying quite something considering his career path), he often got up with Donna to watch the twins feed, marveling every time at their stubbornly gluttonous scrap of a baby. Grace, meanwhile, was the most placid infant they’d ever had. They’d talked about splitting them up as Gracie mostly only woke up because Katie did, but Donna had pointed out it was easier to have them on the same rhythm, and they’d only ever had one crib, anyway. A couple of days after bringing them home he’d crept in one morning and found the two babies holding hands. Rationally he knew it wasn’t an intentional gesture, but it had almost brought him to tears. He smiled now as he looked at the photograph he’d snapped that day, framed in pride of place above the crib. 

Gently depositing the infant back next to her sister, he snuck out to get ready for the day of celebrations, which he had carefully planned to include as many of their friends and family as possible. He was still faintly incredulous that he’d had the chance to experience the joys of fatherhood at all, nevermind four times over, and had insisted repeatedly he needed no thanks or recompense for what he regarded as an abundance of blessings in his life.


End file.
